


My Explanation

by rionaleonhart



Category: Scrubs (TV)
Genre: M/M, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-01
Updated: 2006-04-01
Packaged: 2020-05-07 20:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19216927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rionaleonhart/pseuds/rionaleonhart
Summary: There are probably stupider ways he could have picked to say goodbye. He just can't think of any of them right now.





	My Explanation

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this in 2006, and I'm posting it now, in 2019, backdated and unaltered. So, yes, in 2006 I apparently thought _Cats_ was an opera. I can't explain myself.

“Barbie,” Dr. Cox says, laughing in his I’m-going-to-kill-you way, “the mere _suggestion_ that I would try something on with Newbie here is the most ridiculous thing that I have ever heard. I would have to be a _complete idiot_ for it even to _occur_ to me.”

I try not to look too insulted and make vague agreeing noises.

Elliot looks from me to Dr. Cox and back again, frowning suspiciously. “So – you’re definitely not – ”

“Barbie, why, _why_ do you insist on continuing to annoy me? If I _were_ doing anything with your little friend over there, I would know about it, believe me.”

She’s starting to look a little deflated. “But I was sure that I saw – ”

“Maybe you were imagining things,” I suggest helpfully. “I imagine things, sometimes. Earlier, when you were freaking out, I was imagining that you were singing it. With face-paint and a tail. Like in _Cats_. You know.”

Elliot stares at me for a moment, then turns back to Dr. Cox. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Cox, I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately and I really thought I saw – ”

“If you get out of my sight in the next five seconds, Barbie, I won’t have to kill you for the suggestion.”

She very nearly breaks the sound barrier getting out of there. We stand and watch her leave.

“She’s crazy,” I say quietly, half-laughing.

“Yeah,” mutters Dr. Cox, and then he whips around and grabs my shoulders and kisses me.

...maybe I should back up and explain.

-

As I walk along, balancing my food tray with exaggerated care and pretending that I’m on a tightrope, I suddenly hear the Holy Sound, the scraping noise that I pray for every time I walk past this table: Dr. Cox has kicked out the chair opposite him. I am being invited to eat with _Dr. Cox_.

I turn around and try not to look too hopeful. I’ve always been a little wary of sitting opposite Dr. Cox as soon as he kicks the chair out, ever since I leapt at it like a starving Rowdy and only realised when I was actually sitting down and he was glaring daggers at me that the chair had been for Carla.

“Are you going to sit down or what, Sammy?” he asks. “I know you can’t resist this offer.”

It’s safe! I manage to suppress the Victory Dance instinct and sit down opposite him, grinning like an idiot. Something’s bothering me, though. “Okay, Sammy is definitely a unisex name.”

“My God, Newbie, does it actually _annoy_ you when I use a name that isn’t absolutely, positively a little-girl name? Do you actually _need_ my abuse _that much_? We both know that I meant Samantha, anyway, so you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about it.”

“I wasn’t – ” no, I totally was, and he _knows_ that I was, so denying it really isn’t going to get me anywhere. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

“What, so I obviously have to have something that I need to talk about if I want you to sit here? Did it ever occur to you that I might just want your company?”

I knew it! He likes me! He really likes me! Seriously, if I grin any more my head is going to split in two. It would be a kind of stupid way to die. In my imagination Elliot, Carla and about ten very attractive actresses who just appeared out of nowhere rush to weep over my lifeless body. “Well, uh, you usually – I just figured – ”

“I’m just messing with you, Newbie. I _do_ have something to say.” He leans forward, resting his arms on the table, and looks directly into my eyes. “I’m being fired.”

I stare at him.

“Kelso told me earlier this morning that I couldn’t treat one of my patients because she didn’t have insurance. I may have... punched him in the face a few times.” His laugh sounds more forced than usual. I suppose that makes sense. “Apparently that’s considered misconduct. Who knew? So I’m getting kicked out.”

After a moment longer’s mindless gaping at him, I manage to find my voice. “No you’re not.”

He laughs again. “Well, that’s awfully sweet of you, Emily, but you need to learn that saying things doesn’t always make them come true.”

It totally does. _This_ isn’t true. This is a horrible, horrible joke. “But Kelso can’t – ” I’m trying to sound confident and reassuring, but my voice is wavering _far too much_. This can’t be happening. “– Kelso can’t _fire_ you. You’re the best doctor here!”

“Do you really think I don’t know that, Newbie?”

“But you can’t – ”

“I don’t really have a choice here.” He leans back in his seat. “It was worth it, anyway. Seriously, punching Bobby in the face is all that I think about most days.”

“...when are you leaving?” I sound like I’m about to cry. He has every excuse to call me Jessica right now.

“Bob is graciously permitting me to stick around until midday tomorrow,” he says, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes.

“I could do something,” I say desperately. “I could –”

He opens one eye to glare at me. “No. You couldn’t.”

“But – ”

“Don’t get me wrong, Newbie, I didn’t call you over here because I wanted your _help_ , or your _pity_ , or even a shoulder to cry on. I’m telling you this because I know that you’ll be _absolutely devastated_ – and by the way, Sarah, it’s really not _healthy_ to look up to a person that much – and I want you to know what’s coming so you’re not too shocked when you can’t find me to ask some inane question about your patient’s fear of blankets tomorrow afternoon. I mean, the crying would _ruin_ your new dress.” He stands up, pushing his chair back with a clatter, and walks away.

I keep staring at the cafeteria doors long after they swing shut, and then my pager beeps and I realise that I’ve barely touched my food.

I wasn’t really all that hungry anyway.

-

I look at my watch. It’s eleven thirty. Half an hour before Dr. Cox walks out of my life. Maybe, if I’m lucky, he’ll go insane and kidnap me from my home again. Maybe this time he won’t just take me to a bar – maybe we could set up that private practice at last. It’s the perfect opportunity!

...yeah, you know, I can daydream about the Dorian-Cox Clinic as much as I want, but the whole Cox-being-fired thing is probably going to make my plans a little more difficult to carry out. Right now, I’m still not entirely sure that he’s completely ready for the idea.

Half an hour to go. I drum my fingers on the desk, flick through some notes without really taking them in. One of my patients probably needs me, but I can’t think. I can’t focus. All I can do is wait.

I sigh and glance at my watch. Blink. Glance at it again. Look up at the big clock behind the nurses’ desk.

My watch stopped half an hour ago.

That could explain why time’s been moving so slowly.

Twelve seconds later I’m charging down the corridor towards the front door where Dr. Cox is preparing to leave us for ever. Nobody else seems to be around. I guess he doesn’t have that many friends here to see him off. It’s kind of sad, really.

I screech to a halt in front of him, brace my hands on my knees, try to catch my breath. He stares.

“Look, Newbie, if you’re trying to get horribly injured so I can have one last patient, well – I appreciate the gesture, but – ”

My breathing’s easing a little. I think I might be able to stand up properly now. There we go.

“– quite frankly, it’s a _stupid_ thing to do, and I’d prefer it if – ”

“I love you, Dr. Cox,” I say, and then I lunge and kiss him.

...somehow, this send-off seemed a lot more manly in my head.

After a couple of seconds, during which I can think of little more than _oh my god I am actually kissing Dr. Cox what the hell was I thinking?_ , Cox manages to get over his shock enough to push me away. I fall onto the floor. These are probably the last few seconds of my life, so I hope it’s a graceful fall. Like a dying swan. It doesn’t feel particularly graceful, though, and why would a swan die gracefully, anyway? Patients don’t die gracefully. The best you can hope for is to be unconscious when you go. I wish I were unconscious.

“What,” Cox begins, very slowly, “– the _hell_ – are you – ”

There’s a sound behind me, and I turn around, stumbling to my feet. Dr. Kelso is walking down the corridor towards us.

Oh, God. He didn’t see anything, did he? Oh god oh god ohgod –

“Bobbles!” Dr. Cox trills cheerfully from behind me. “Come to see me off?”

“Perry,” Kelso says, and hands him a patient file without looking at him. “This young lady just came in, and I want her cured and out of the hospital by midnight.”

It’s not often that I get to see Dr. Cox lost for words. He blinks, stares, and eventually clears his throat and says, “Are you – ”

“In the light of Dr. Dorian’s appeal on your behalf and your – ” his face twists, “– admittedly good work here, we have decided that you may remain here for the present.”

Dr. Cox blinks, stunned, and then mock-grins and flutters his eyelashes. “Oh, Kelso, I knew you cared. I’m the happiest girl in the world.”

“Get to work,” Kelso snarls, and stalks off. Dr. Cox watches him leave, and then wheels on me. I quickly try to compose my gigantic stupid grin.

“ _Appeal on my behalf?”_

He’s probably not about to thank me from the bottom of his heart, is he?

“You really can’t live without me, can you, Melissa? I cannot _believe_ that you’re actually _that needy_. You’re going to have to stand on your own two feet sometime, you know.”

Nope. Didn’t think so.

He turns to leave, but then hesitates, looks back. I tense up. He’s just remembered that he’s supposed to be killing me, hasn’t he?

“...thanks,” he says quietly, and then, after a pause, “Chloe.”

Dr. Cox walks off down the corridor.

I am _never going to stop grinning ever_.

-

“Good morning, Dr. Cox!” I chirp happily when I see him in the corridor the next day, waving cheerfully, and he grabs my wrist and slams me against the wall.

Uh, okay.

“I think there’s a conversation from yesterday that we need to finish,” he says, managing to be very quiet and _very very scary_ at the same time. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

Oh. Right. That.

I clear my throat awkwardly. Then I carry on clearing my throat, because when I’m doing that I can’t speak, and I think it’d probably be best if I just didn’t say anything right now. Maybe if I’m lucky he’ll just walk away. Maybe he’ll at least take his hand off my wrist, because I think he might be cutting off the circulation and I’m kind of not happy about that.

“You don’t ever touch me, Newbie. I thought we made that clear.”

“Um, could you please stop touching _me_?” I squeak. “Because – because it kind of feels like my hand’s about to fall off, and – ”

“Me?” he asks, staring. “I can touch you whenever I want.” And then he kisses me.

This is so completely surreal that my brain practically shuts down.

“Um – ” I begin awkwardly when I regain the power of speech. I’ve got a feeling that I’m in a Danger Zone right now. I’m going to have to watch what I say if I don’t want Dr. Cox to disown me. Again. “Um...”

But he’s launching into one of his rants, which is nice because it gives me some time to gather myself and not say anything _stupid_.

“Right, Newbie, I’ve got a few rules for you. I’m only going to say them once, and if you don’t follow them I’m going to hang you with your small intestine, so it might be an idea to listen. First, you don’t tell _anyone_ about this. _Ever_. Second, if this ‘relationship’ should – God forbid – develop into anything _sexual_ , don’t get any funny ideas about topping. I don’t know why I’m even bothering to warn you about this, because you haven’t exactly got the equipment, but if you should magically grow something down there I want you to remember that.” He takes a deep breath.

“Not even if – ” I begin, and then I have a horrible premonition of the very near future, in which Dr. Cox is holding my head in a river and yelling ‘Who’s on top now, huh? Huh?’

“Ohhh, Millie, I hope you’ve thought this through.”

I snap out of it. Dr. Cox is staring at me in that incredulous head-tilted, arms-folded way that means I’ve just said something incredibly stupid.

Maybe I shouldn’t continue with this line of thought. “...No, I – I wasn’t saying anything.”

“Good girl.” And then he turns and leaves, and I’m left to contemplate _what the hell just happened_. Did he just say – are we –

...you know, I don’t think I’m ever going to understand Dr. Cox completely. I’m just going to focus on what I do understand after that meeting, which is basically that I’m still alive! Hooray!

-

“Right, Ellie, here’s the deal. I’ve got to check on Mr. Taylor, the most exhausting, soul-sucking patient in the history of the _world_ , and there’s no way that I’m going to suffer that alone, so you’re coming with me.”

Okay, so he beeped me just so he could drag me down into his pit of misery. Not the best news, but it could have been worse.

“But I’ve met Mr. Taylor. I thought he was okay.”

“I can assure you, Newbie, one more visit to Illness McSickerson is just going to finish me off. If he’s going for some kind of Number of Diseases World Record, which is the _only possible explanation_ I can think of for all the time he’s spent dying in here, he’s definitely going to win. I’ll be sure to congratulate him with my last dying breath as I collapse under the sheer weight of his constant _complaining_.”

“He’s not _that_ bad,” I protest, because I love everyone today. And he _isn’t_ that bad. That might just be because I’m not usually the one who has to look after him every day, though.

“Josephine, Mr. Taylor is – and you can take my word for this – the most – oh, and look who it is. _She’ll_ make the day less annoying.”

“Didn’t anyone tell you?” Elliot asks, practically bouncing up and down, and so of course I have to mentally transfer her onto a trampoline. “Mr. Taylor made a full recovery! He’s being released!”

Maybe not a trampoline. Maybe she’s a _kangaroo_.

“That’s fantastic!” I say happily. I don’t think I have anything incredibly urgent right now, then. Woohoo, free time! I might take an early lunch, because I’ll probably be too busy to eat later.

Elliot grins, waves and speeds off down the corridor. I turn to Dr. Cox. “Hey, are you busy right now?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m _always_ busy, Newbie. The patients aren’t going to stop dying just because Mr. Taylor’s decided to stop _draining my soul_.”

...maybe I should just keep working. “Uh – ”

He’s looking at me, and _what the hell is that grin?_ I’ve never seen that grin before. It’s a _scary scary grin_. I feel like a chicken watching a fox. A chicken in scrubs watching a white-coated fox with a _really scary grin_.

“I think we might be able to take a moment to celebrate, though,” he says, and shunts me sideways into an empty examination room.

-

“Yeah, it was a risky operation, but she’s still alive! I _rock_.”

“You do!” I say, and we high-five and do the Saved A Patient dance down the corridor. Carla rolls her eyes and laughs to herself at the nurses’ station. I know that we look like complete idiots, but I really don’t care. The Saved A Patient dance is a _very important part of the day_. If Turk and I don’t get to do the Saved A Patient dance that means we haven’t saved anyone, and that’s just depressing.

Dr. Cox is walking down the corridor towards us. I immediately pretend that I wasn’t dancing and grin at him like the besotted idiot I am. He rolls his eyes and carries on walking.

“Wait, what?”

I turn around. Turk is staring at me with the expression that usually means ‘what do you _mean_ the patient just _disappeared?_ ’.

“What?” I ask, bewildered.

“Tell me I didn’t see what I just saw,” he says, his voice about an octave higher than usual. His eyes are very, very wide. It would be really cool if he could shoot lasers out of them.

Also, what? “Um... okay, you didn’t see it.”

“Oh, God, I cannot believe this.” He holds his head in his hands. “This is insane.”

What’s going on? This makes no se –

– oh. _Oh_.

Oh, no. No no no no no. I’d completely forgotten about the Chris Turk Sixth Sense. But it can’t have been that, right? He can’t have seen anything, right?

“ _Dr. Cox?_ ” he asks, his voice soaring incredulously.

I’m starting to think that maybe he _does_ mean that. “Um – ”

“Seriously, JD, I love you – in a _completely non-Coxy way_ – ” he hastens to add, “but _Dr. Cox?_ I think that this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, and that’s including that time you were wondering what bleach tasted like.”

“Please, please don’t let him know you know,” I hiss, steering him as casually as I can away from the corridor that suddenly seems very crowded indeed and into a broom cupboard. “If Cox thinks that I told you, he is going to _kill me_.”

“Oh, I’m not going to be talking about this _at all_ , I promise you that. Maybe if I don’t think about it, it’ll stop being true.”

Perhaps not the best possible reaction to the revelation, but better than I could have hoped for. “Uh, you’re probably wondering how it happened.”

“No, I’m really not. Because I’m not thinking about it. At all.”

“You remember how Kelso was threatening to fire him? Well, uh, I was going to say goodbye, and – ”

“JD!” Turk squawks, clapping his hands over his ears. “You’re making it _really difficult_ for me to stop thinking about it, here!”

“...sorry,” I mutter. “I guess I just... needed someone to talk to.” It’s not as if I can actually talk to Cox about these things, after all.

“I can’t believe that you’re hitting _Dr. Cox_.”

“Turk!” I squeak, like the little girl I seem increasingly to be. “Not so _loud_!” I’m half-expecting Dr. Cox to burst through the cupboard door and kill me on the spot.

“And you’re not even the hitt _er_. You’re the hitt _ee_. I am _ashamed_ of you, my man.”

“How did you know I – hey, have you ever _tried_ hitting Dr. Cox?” I protest, inadvertently catapulting the conversation into whole new terrifying levels of weirdness, but before he can answer the door creaks open, and oh _God_ if it’s Dr. Cox I’m just going to die right where I stand and save him the trouble –

– but it’s not Dr. Cox. It is much, much worse than Dr. Cox.

“What’re you doing in here?” the Janitor asks suspiciously.

‘Nothing’, ‘tidying your supplies’ and ‘please don’t kill me please’ are the answers that occur instantly, one after another. I shrink back against Turk’s chest and whimper.

The Janitor stares at us for a moment longer, and then ‘hmph’s quietly and leaves.

Wait. What?

He did _nothing_? The Janitor _never_ does nothing. What’s he done? Or – what’s he _going_ to do, or – _what?_

“You’re an idiot, JD,” Turk mutters, half-affectionate and half-horrified, and puts an arm around my shoulders.

“Thanks for the support.” I’m not really listening – I’m watching the door. Where’s the Janitor gone? What’s he going to do to me?

“You’re an idiot, but I still love you, in case you were worried about that.”

That... really means a lot to me. It’s enough to make me forget about the Janitor. “...thanks. I was worried that you wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, I don’t _understand_. I’m just going to stick by you anyway.”

I can’t help laughing. “You know, I don’t think I understand either.”

Yeah, it’s been a pretty good day.

-

It’s not easy, being a doctor. It’s not like you can just go back and try again if you do something wrong. If you make a mistake, people will die. That’s a pretty heavy thing to have hanging over your head all day. You can’t think about these things all the time, because then you’d panic, and _that’s_ when you make mistakes.

So it’s kind of a relief that I’ve got other things to worry about. Well, it’s kind of a relief that I’ve got _one_ of the other things to worry about. I’ve got the Janitor to worry about as well, and nothing Janitor-related can _ever_ be a relief.

“Dr. Cox!” I call when I see him in the corridor. I sound far too happy to see him. He’s totally going to mock me for that.

He turns around. “Jenny!” he mimics.

I really _am_ getting to know him. I’d congratulate myself, but I’ve got something to say to him, and if I don’t say it right now I’m going to chicken out.

“Um – Dr. Cox, about this morning – ”

“What about this morning?” he asks sharply. “Nothing happened this morning.”

What? “No, we were going to examine Mr. Taylor, and – ”

“Newbie,” Dr. Cox says quietly, “when I say ‘nothing happened this morning’, that is your cue to _not say anything more about it. Ever._ ”

Um, right. This conversation isn’t exactly going the way I planned it. I’m not sure exactly how I planned it, but I’m pretty sure it involved Dr. Cox embracing me and tearfully confessing that he only ever mocked because he loved. Maybe that was a _little_ farfetched, but I’d expect something more than _this_. “No, but – I really have to – ”

“Seeya, Newbie,” he says with the Dr. Cox Grin, and steps sideways into the elevator. The doors are closing – _dammit_ , I’ve lost him, I shouldn’t have –

– ah, but _have_ I?

I fling myself through the closing doors. This is a _stupid_ thing to do, as Dr. Cox is only too happy to inform me when I’m lying dazed on the elevator floor, having almost knocked myself out against the opposite wall.

“I wanted to talk to you,” I say determinedly, staring up at multiple Dr. Coxes and trying to keep my eyes from crossing.

He leans against the opposite wall. “Look, Sophie, I understand that you must be pretty confused about your _feeeelings_ right now, but it’s perfectly natural to – ”

“Stop _doing_ that!” I snap, getting to my feet, which is a Very Bad Idea and results in my falling straight back down again.

My vision is unblurring enough for me to be able to see his raised eyebrows. “Doing what?” he asks.

“...I don’t know. That. Stop mocking me when I’m trying to talk to you about something serious.”

“Newbie, I _always_ mock you. I can guarantee that you’d soon be crying your eyes out and _begging_ me to call you a girl’s name if I stopped.”

“I wouldn’t – ” dear God, he’s right! “...never mind.”

Dr. Cox glances back at the buttons. “ _Why_ is this elevator taking so long?”

I was kind of wondering that too, but I won’t complain, because it’s convenient. “I just – you know – I know you don’t really go for guys, and – um – ” I... really don’t know what I’m saying. I think I just want to be sure that this is – you know – real. That he won’t... leave.

God, I really _am_ a girl.

He folds his arms and stares at me for exactly three seconds (not that I’m counting, not that I write down all of Dr. Cox’s mannerisms in my diary and practise them in front of a mirror a couple of times a day) before saying, “What’s your point, Lucy?” and escaping out of the opening doors.

Maybe it’d be better not to bring it up at all. I hit the button to bring me back to the floor I was on (most pointless elevator ride _ever_ ), and then the doors open and I walk out into the corridor and turn a corner and _argh Janitor_.

The Janitor is sitting on an overturned bucket, his mop in his hands. It’d probably be best just to run, but I can’t stand the _suspense_ any more. Maybe I can take this chance to figure out what he’s plotting. I just have to be subtle about it.

“What are you going to do to me?” I yell. “It’s driving me crazy!”

The Janitor stares at me. “I wasn’t going to do anything.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I thought I’d give you a break.” He stands up slowly, leans on his mop. “But, if you insist...”

“What? No! I don’t! I really really don’t!”

-

I _swear_ it shouldn’t be physically possible to pin someone to a brick wall using a mop handle. When I see Dr. Cox walking past I yell at him to free me, but he just glances at me, cracks up laughing and moves on.

Fine. I didn’t really like him anyway.

Carla helps me down in the end. I briefly consider trying to start something with her – just to _show him_ – but then I remember that Turk would _kill_ me.

-

Eventually, I manage to track Dr. Cox down. He’s standing in a darkened room, looking at a chart. I am determined not to sound whiny.

“Why didn’t you get me down from the wall?”

...okay, so I failed.

Dr. Cox turns around and looks at me in silence for a few seconds. “Because,” he explains patiently, “it was _hilarious_. I needed something to cheer me up, and you’re much better at that when you’re pinned to the wall than when you’re trailing around after me like a lost puppy.” He goes back to examining the chart. “Besides, I thought you needed to learn that you couldn’t rely on other people all the time. It’s about time you got out of a situation by yourself.

“Well, Carla helped me out, so there.”

He looks up and grins, gives me a thumbs-up. “Way to miss the point there, Newbie.”

I shuffle my feet awkwardly. “I just thought that – shouldn’t we be looking out for each other more, now? You know, now that we’re – ”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Newbie, you think that changes _anything?_ ”

...I kind of did. There are things we do now that we _definitely_ never did before, and I say so.

“What I mean, Kirsty, is that we – you and me – we’re not going to change completely just because I’ve destroyed your precious maidenhood. I’d like to think that you’ve been observant enough to notice that it isn’t all flowers and kittens and ballroom dancing yet. I’m still going to make fun of you, because I like mocking you and, let’s face it, it’s just so _easy_. You, unfortunately, are still going to chase me around and ask me incredibly stupid questions. You see? Nothing’s really changed. So you can stop worrying about this big new thing in your life, because when you think about it, it really doesn’t matter that much.”

I take a moment to think about that, and, y’know, he’s _right_. My mind plays the ‘Dr. Cox is Right’ music. Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da, da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da. I get to hear that a lot more often than the ‘JD is Right’ music, which is a shame because the ‘JD is Right’ music really rocks.

“But – ” how am I supposed to say this without sounding incredibly girly? ...there’s no way to say this without sounding incredibly girly. “...but do you mean that our – that our relationship doesn’t mean _anything_ to you, or that the relationship is the important thing and the sex is just kind of there, it’s stress relief or something, or – ”

...I swear, half the time Dr. Cox only kisses me to shut me up. He pushes me against the wall (why does he always go for the walls?) and shoves his hands up under my shirt and calls me Rosie, and then the door opens and Elliot is standing there with her hands over her mouth.

Right. This is kind of awkward. I try to look like a person who is having a completely normal medical examination.

“I – you’re – ”

“For the love of God, Barbie, can’t you knock?”

“I can’t believe – I can’t believe you’re – ” Her voice is insanely high. Like, opera-singer high. I suddenly have the very vivid mental image of her singing ‘ _I can’t believe you’re doing it!_ ’ while dancing around in full _Cats_ garb.

Dr. Cox folds his arms and tilts his head. “Spit it out, Barbie, I’ve got patients to see to.”

She explains exactly what it is that she can’t believe at a frequency that only bats can hear. Dr. Cox asks her pleasantly to slow down, and she says it again. Dr. Cox asks her to repeat herself a third time, and I’m getting the feeling that he’s just enjoying tormenting her, because she’s turning a more interesting shade of scarlet by the second.

“Do you _really think_ that I’d be kissing Marianne here?” he asks eventually. His tone is so incredulous that _I’m_ convinced, and his hands were up my shirt a moment ago.

Elliot looks half-relieved, half-horrified. “Oh, God, so you’re not – I can’t believe I said that, I’m so – but I _swear_ – ”

“Barbie,” Cox says, “the mere _suggestion_ that I would try something on with Newbie here is the most ridiculous thing that I have ever heard. I would have to be a _complete idiot_ for it even to _occur_ to me.”

She laughs nervously and looks back and forth between us. “So, uh, you’re definitely not – ”

“Barbie,” he says, throwing his hands into the air, which is a weird expression and always makes me think of him actually literally flinging his detached hands up, which would probably be kind of difficult because what would he throw them with? “...why, _why_ do you insist on continuing to annoy me? If I _were_ doing anything with your little friend over there, I would know about it, believe me.”

“But – I was sure that I saw – ”

This is never going to end, is it? I’d forgotten how much Elliot likes digging her own grave, which is another weird expression, but at least the mental images are intentional. This reminds me of a possible explanation, and so I suggest that she might have been imagining things.

She turns back to Dr. Cox, looking more and more nervous. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Cox, I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately and I really thought I saw – ” and then Dr. Cox chases her away and I can’t help laughing because the situation is just so _ridiculous_ and he slams me against the wall and kisses me again.

“You never answered me,” I say quietly when he lets me go. I know I’m pushing my luck here, but I have to ask. “Am I important to you?”

He stares at me in disbelief. “Okay, are you _trying_ to act like a girl? Because you’re making this way too easy for me. Seriously, if you take all the challenge out of it, mocking you isn’t going to be any fun anymore.” He walks out, slams the door behind him.

I sit on the side of the bed once he’s gone, and I can’t stop grinning, because I’m pretty sure that meant ‘yes’.


End file.
